Marked by Mercy

Just as we walked around the corner, all of the pigeons in the square took off from the ground with a collective shudder. Muscles tensed. Hands gripped tightly. Eyes welled up with tears.

The photos might look like just a foreign family visiting a cultural heritage site. But behind the photos, there are scars. Deep ones. This was a site of trauma for us nearly 6 years ago, but it is also a marker of unspeakable mercy and deliverance.  Here the earth shook beneath us, and things were shaken loose inside of us. There is before the earthquake, and there is after the earthquake, but it will always be a marker in time.

Some of us have returned since that day. One son had not. The season that followed that day years ago manifested trauma that I didn't know how or if it could heal. I have seen healing since that day, but I still did not know whether he would ever be able to set foot in that place again. Before we leave this country that has been our home for many years, it felt worth trying. John and I wanted to mark that place, not for the terror it held, but for the mercy. We held the plan loosely, not knowing whether it would be a healthy step or just one that seared through the scars, bubbling too much to the surface.

The entry was hard. Seeing the scene that was so painfully familiar triggered reactions beyond conscious thought or control. We waited, and we prayed, and we cried. But slowly we eased in, and our friend started taking the photos. Grips didn't loosen at first, but faint smiles and eventually some laughs came. Eventually even a bold request to personally mark the very spot most significant for my boy.

Trauma was not the final word. I don't understand the depths of God's mercy, and I know we do not deserve it! But His mercy covered us, delivered us, not only 6 years ago but also this return visit. 

This place is marked in our hearts and minds forever. There are still scars, but they tell a story of mercy and healing and victory!